


Falling Back to Earth

by DizzyDrea



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-22
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-05 06:43:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/pseuds/DizzyDrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She'd been flying high, thinking she was untouchable, and now she'd fallen back to earth. She'd been fortunate that there'd been someone to catch her. And maybe she could do the same thing for someone else. It was the least she could do, for herself and for the man who'd rescued her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Back to Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on the Grimm Kink Meme, as a sort-of post-ep to _Love Sick_. It was supposed to be a quick one-shot, maybe 2000 words total. It might have gotten a bit out of control. I also had to rewrite it a bit after watching _Cat and Mouse_ , to incorporate information about the Verrat and the Lauffeur. /sigh/ Hopefully this will hold up for longer than five minutes. And, just to note: if Renard and Adalind seemed a bit out of character in this, rest assured it was by design, and for the reasons stated in the story.
> 
> Disclaimer: Grimm is the property of NBC, Universal Television, GK Productions, Hazy Mills Productions, Open 4 Business Productions LLC and a lot of other people who aren’t me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~

Adalind Schade sat on the park bench, rain soaking through her charcoal suit. It had been three days. Three days since she'd lost her identity, her very soul. Three days since she'd lost her mother, her King, her place in the world.

And to add insult to injury, she'd just lost her job.

She'd blame it all on that bastard Grimm, but it wasn't really his fault. She knew that his blood was fatal to her, but she'd done it anyway. She'd bitten him, in a fit of passion, because he'd had the audacity to kiss her in the middle of a fight. Of course, she'd done exactly what he'd wanted her to, which was why she was more pissed at herself than at him.

She didn't even have the energy to hate Sean Renard. He'd sent her to do a job, and she'd failed spectacularly. She knew she deserved to be turned out, but _god_ it hurt. She'd given her life for him, dedicated herself to his cause, even fallen in love with him, as foolish as it had been. But the one thing he'd asked her to do, she hadn't been able to do. 

Her mother had warned her about failing him. The spell was difficult, she knew, but not beyond her abilities. And it wasn't like her mother was going to be able to do what needed to be done. There was a reason that the King had come to her: her mother might be an accomplished _hexenbiest_ , but she was too old for this. Adalind still had her beauty, and she knew how to use it.

The spell had worked perfectly. Hank had been obsessed with her to the point of stalking her. It had given her a little thrill to know that she'd been able to do that to him. She hadn't told anyone else what spell she was going to use, not even her King. She wanted to be able to present him with the key and have him marvel—as he often did—over her power and skill. 

But apparently, the little Grimm was smarter than she'd given him credit for, and now she'd paid the ultimate price. She had no idea where to go from here. She had her law degree, but the law had never been her main focus. Serving her King had been, but now she didn't even have that.

"Adalind?"

She looked up, startled by the familiar voice. "Detective Burkhardt! You startled me."

He looked quite a bit better than the last time she'd seen him, she noticed absently. The cut in his lip was almost healed, and he no longer sported the bruises she'd given him. It was yet another reminder that he was something other than what he appeared to be.

"Are you okay?" he asked, dragging her attention back to the present.

She shivered, but not from his scrutiny. She'd been so wrapped up in her pain that she hadn't really noticed the cold until now. Not that she wanted the Grimm to know that.

"I'm fine." She smiled despite the chatter of teeth that said otherwise.

He looked at her again, with an intensity that used to amuse her. Now it only reminded her of all that she'd lost. He sat down on the bench beside her, surprising her.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She gaped at him. He really meant that.

"You don't need to apologize," she said, shaking her head. "I knew better. Apparently, you did, too."

"I took something from you, Adalind," he said, looking at her with those intense, grey eyes. "Something precious. I didn't want to, but I had no choice."

"I know," she said, closing her eyes against a fresh wave of pain. She opened them again, holding is gaze. "But like I said, I knew the risks. This isn't all your fault."

"You should really think about getting in out of the rain."

She laughed mirthlessly. "I would if I had anywhere to go."

"What?" he asked, frowning.

"I was fired this morning." Her shoulders slumped. "I have no idea what I'm going to do. Word will get out and I probably won't be able to get hired on anywhere else."

Nick looked away, but not before she saw the honest pain on his face. It was just like the Grimm to be worried about the wesen. Former wesen, in her case. His compassion had always been his weakness. Although she might revise that thought, given what had happened to her.

He looked back at her, and she could see the determination in his grey eyes. "Come with me."

He stood, extending a hand to her. She just stared at it for a long moment. "Where?"

"Just come with me," he said. When she didn't move, he turned to face her, hands hitched on his belt. "You have nowhere else to be right now. Let me help you."

Adalind looked down, rubbing her hands over her face. It was humiliating, the idea that she needed help, but he was right about one thing: she didn't have anywhere else to go. Straightening up, she looked at him for a long minute. His expression was open and willing, and though she didn't really have any reason to, she trusted him.

A shiver ran through her, shaking her out of her thoughts. Standing up, she grabbed her bag, nodding at Nick. "Let's go."

He put a hand to the small of her back, guiding her out of the park and towards his beat up old truck. When he pulled the door open, she just stood there, looking at the bench seat. It wasn't even that she had no idea how she was supposed to climb up into the cab in a tight skirt and heels.

"I'm wet," she said, stating the obvious.

"So am I," he said.

She could feel his breath over her ear as he spoke, and it startled a gasp out of her. She hadn't realized he'd come so close. Glancing behind her, she saw his rueful smile.

"Turn around," he said. When she complied, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up, setting her on the seat. "The truck's old; the seats will survive."

He stepped back, waiting for her to swing her feet inside. That done, he slammed the door shut and circled the truck, sliding behind the wheel with ease. He gave her a brief smile, then started the truck and headed out. 

She clutched her bag close as she watched the scenery pass. She had no idea where they were going, only that they were headed out of downtown. The houses got older and farther apart the longer they drove, until he pulled into a driveway next to a nice, two story Victorian.

"We're here," he said unnecessarily. "Come on inside."

She watched him get out of the truck, and she took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself as he came around to her side. Before she could grasp the handle and open her door, he was there, swinging it open and waiting for her to slide out.

Again, he put his hand at the small of her back, guiding her up the stairs and to the front door. A moment's fumbling with the keys and he was ushering her inside.

She stood motionless, just inside the door, as she dripped on the floor. She looked down, seeing the puddle developing underneath her and rolled her eyes. Could the day get any worse?

"Don't worry about the floor," Nick said, as if he'd read her mind. "I'll clean it up later. Right now, let's work on getting you dried off and warm."

As if on cue, a shiver wracked her body. She followed him upstairs and into a small bathroom. "I don't have anything to change into."

She cringed, thinking that her internal filter must have deserted her along with her soul, but Nick just smiled at her.

"I'll grab you something to put on. Just leave your clothes here when you're done."

She looked down at the suit she was wearing. It had been silk, expensive, and now likely ruined. Same with the shoes and her blouse. Her bag was soaked through as well. The stuff inside would survive, but that was about it.

He put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently and smiling as he passed. She gave him a weak smile before he disappeared. Glancing around, she was at a loss for the first time in her life. This was what she'd been reduced to: charity from a Grimm, of all people. For the first time since it had all happened, she felt the tears threatening. Stealing herself, she straightened up. She wasn't going to cry. She was better than that.

She dropped her bag on the floor and set about stripping her clothes off. A shower was her only thought at that point. She was chilled to the bone, but she doubted she'd ever really be warm again. Still, the hot water would keep her from catching her death of a cold.

A harsh bark of laugher startled her. She looked in the mirror, realizing she'd been the one to laugh. She must be going hysterical if she was laughing about the state of her life, but she couldn't seem to stop. Sliding down the wall, her laughter turned to hot tears as she finally let go and gave in to the grief.

~o~

Adalind crept quietly down the stairs and into the living room. She'd stayed in the shower until the water had started to cool, wishing not for the first time that the warmth of the water could penetrate her soul—or at least what was left of it. She still felt cold, but when she got out of the shower she'd found sweat pants and a sweatshirt, along with a pair of warm socks waiting for her. Nick must have dropped them off while she was showering. It bothered her more than a little that she hadn't even noticed he'd come and gone.

The house was so quiet that she wasn't sure anyone was there besides herself. Seeing light coming from what she assumed was the kitchen, she moved that direction. Her feet made no sound on the hardwood floors as she passed through the living room and dining area. When she reached the doorway to the kitchen, she stopped short.

Nick was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, hands cradling a mug of steaming liquid. Sean Renard, her King, stood beside him, his hand on Nick's shoulder in a silent show of support. Nick must have called him while she'd been in the shower. She stared for long moments at the two men, sharing a quiet moment she was pretty sure she shouldn't be seeing. Renard was leaning against the counter next to Nick. His eyes were closed, but as if he sensed they were no longer alone, Renard opened them, meeting her gaze.

Her heart leapt into her throat. Turning abruptly, she fled the room, racing for the front door. Her hand was on the knob before she stopped, looking down at her stocking feet. It was still raining outside and her ruined clothes were in a pile in the upstairs bathroom. And even if she did have clothes, she didn't really have anywhere to go. She could go home, but there wasn't really anything there for her. She lived alone, in a fully furnished, rented apartment that had very little of her own things in it. And it wouldn't be hers for very much longer; it had been rented by her firm, and now that she'd been dismissed she'd have to find a new place to live.

Her shoulders slumped. She really was alone. She'd lost her sisters months ago, and the bond between young _hexenbiester_ wasn't something you just replaced at the drop of a hat. And with her mother essentially disowning her, she had no one to turn to.

Shuffling back to the living room, she collapsed onto the sofa, dropping her head into her hands. She felt the couch cushions dip beside her, then a strong arm pulling her in. She went willingly; resting her head on the offered shoulder as the tears started falling. She sobbed quietly in Nick's arms for long minutes, wishing that she could just stop crying, but it seemed like every time she'd gotten it under control, the tears started all over again.

When the storm had finally passed, she straightened up, sniffling and wiping at her eyes. "I'm so sorry; I just don't know what's the matter with me."

"It's okay, Adalind," Nick said. He stroked a hand over her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. "I know it's been rough on you."

He reached over to the end table and grabbed a tissue for her dabbing at her eyes before pressing it into her hand. She turned confused eyes on him as she wiped her nose.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

Nick smiled gently. "Because nobody should have to go through this alone. And it's kinda my fault that this happened to you."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I told you before, I knew what I was doing. It's not your fault."

She couldn't blame him for any of it. He'd been a pawn in a game far larger than he understood. But, then again, so had she. The difference was, she'd known what she was getting into and had gotten burned while he'd walked away unscathed. 

Though she had to wonder just how innocent he really was. The way he and her King were so comfortable in each others' presence, it didn't look like they were just work colleagues as she'd been led to believe. It seemed like so much more, but that couldn't be right, could it?

As if her thoughts could conjure the man, Renard appeared in the living room carrying a steaming mug. He sat down on the coffee table and held out the mug for her to take.

"Here, drink this," he said softly. "It'll help warm you up."

She looked longingly into that face she knew so well. He looked the same to her, and yet different. She could no longer see the crown that sat regal on his brow, nor could she see the fire burn green in his eyes. He looked like any other man, despite the fact that she knew he wasn't a mere man.

"Careful," he said, tipping a slight smile.

Her hands fumbled on the mug, so he wrapped his larger ones around hers, pressing the cup into her hands. She looked into his eyes, but instead of the recriminations and disappointment she'd seen before, there was only compassion and kindness. Tears pricked at her eyes; she squeezed them shut, willing the tears away.

Nick pulled her to his side, rubbing a hand over her back as she took a few deep breaths. When she opened her eyes, she offered him a grateful smile. She took a sip of the coffee, nearly choking on it.

"What—"

"A shot of brandy," Renard said. "My grandmother's recipe for what ails you."

Adalind raised an eyebrow, but took another sip, this time more prepared. She could feel the warm coffee and the brandy working its way through her system, warming her from the inside out. She sagged a bit in relief. She could feel herself thawing out for the first time in days. Maybe she'd survive this after all.

"Better?" Nick asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

They sat quietly for a few minutes as she sipped her coffee, letting the stress of the last few days finally bleed out of her. At one point, Nick had pulled the blanket off the back of the couch. She'd tucked her feet under her as he'd covered her legs. When he'd resettled on the couch, she'd leaned into his side, and he'd put his arm back around her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

There were questions burning in her mind, now that she was feeling better. Things she wanted to know but was afraid to ask for fear it wasn't her place anymore. But again, it was like Nick was reading her mind.

"I'd imagine you have questions," he said, smiling down at her.

She glanced between the two men, nibbling on her lip. "I don't even know what to ask. I feel like I've missed something huge."

Nick smiled. "How about we just start from the beginning, then." She nodded, and he began his tale. "My aunt moved us to Portland when I was about thirteen, after my parents died. I'd decided not long after my parents were killed that I wanted to be a cop, so I went to Portland State. I majored in Criminal Justice and took the entrance exam as soon after graduation as I could."

"I met Nick not long after he joined the Force," Renard said, picking up the story. "I was a rookie detective, and Nick was on patrol. My family has tracked all known Grimm lines for many years, so I knew who he was and what he would become. I'd been sent to Portland by my family for the express purpose of befriending him, though I think I'd have done it even if they hadn't asked it of me."

Adalind was struck by how different her King was this evening, compared to what she was used to. Normally he was hard, radiating power and authority. Tonight, he was soft-spoken and almost humble. She had to wonder if it was Nick's influence, or if it was something else entirely.

"Sean was the one to tell me about my heritage," Nick spoke into the silence. "He told me about my aunt being a Grimm—and about just what kind of Grimm she was—about the wesen, The Verrat, and a world I didn't even know existed. He opened my eyes to so many things."

There was a softness in his grey eyes that surprised her. She'd only ever seen shards of steel when she'd looked at the Grimm, but she hadn't expected him to react any other way, given who she was—who she'd been. She followed his gaze to her King, and saw the same soft affection lighting those familiar green eyes. They glowed in the soft lamplight, not in the same way that she'd been accustomed to see, but there was still an inner fire that animated them, giving just a hint of the power she knew lay beneath the surface.

"Once upon a time," and here Renard stopped, quirking a smile at the irony of that statement, "there was balance, between the Seven Houses, the Verrat and the Grimm. My ancestors ruled the humans and the Verrat governed the wesen world. The Grimm were caught between, protecting the humans from the wesen, and the wesen from the humans."

Adalind gasped. She hadn’t known that the Reapers were the onetime police of the wesen world. She'd always assumed they were the vile, power-mongering murderers she'd known about from childhood.

"The _hässlich_ are particularly well suited to being enforcers," Nick said. "They're ruthless, efficient killers, but that can be effective in keeping certain kinds of wesen in line. And, they're dedicated, so once they swear an oath, they'll see it through."

"But, as with all of history, times change," Renard said. "The Verrat grew hungry for power, killing wesen indiscriminately to keep the rest in line. The Grimm turned to the Houses to stop the killing, which forced the Verrat to hunt the Grimm down, to stop them from interfering. Eventually, even the ties between the Grimm and the Seven Houses frayed, until all contact was lost. Without the balance between them—the Seven Houses, the Verrat and the Grimm—the Grimm became no better than the Reapers, killing wesen without remorse. And, when that happened, the Houses chose to ally with the Verrat to control the Grimm, and the wesen, once again upsetting the balance."

"This war has been going on a long time, Adalind," Nick said, drawing her attention back to him. "When Sean told me what was really going on, I was shocked. I couldn’t believe that my aunt had been involved in this for over ten years, and yet she'd never let on, nevermind the fact that she had a reputation as a cold-blooded killer. But, the more wesen I talked to, the more I understood that there was something wrong, and that Aunt Marie—and any Grimm like her—was part of the problem."

"So, we decided that the war had to end," Renard said, and now his voice had taken on the hard edge she was used to hearing. "Whatever it took, we had to end it. No more wesen sacrificed to the Grimms; no more Grimms sacrificed to the Verrat. No more Kings and queens standing by allowing the death and destruction to continue. It. Ends. Here."

Adalind's eyes had grown wide as saucers. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Renard had always been loyal to his family. Everything he'd done had been to further the family's goals. Or, at least that's what she'd thought.

"Sean's been protecting me for a while now," Nick said, breaking into her thoughts. "He's dispatched several Reapers, and despite his family's instructions to kill me and take what they want, he's resisted. For which, I am eternally grateful."

She looked at Nick, but his attention was focused on Renard, and she could see the gratitude suffusing his face, the depth of it stealing her breath. When she shifted her gaze to her King, the answering approval was impossible to miss.

"You became friends," she whispered. They were her first words since their tale had begun, and they sounded loud in the quiet of the room.

Renard smiled at her. "Yes, we became friends. Brothers, really. Working so closely together to stall my family and undermine the Verrat as we try to end this war has brought us closer together than we'd ever imagined."

"What about your girlfriend?" she asked Nick. "Does she know what's going on?"

"I told Juliette what was going on when we first moved in together," he said. "I had to give her the choice to stay or walk away. Things only get more dangerous from here. She's actually been a great asset, helping us keep Sean's family in the dark about what's really going on."

An impish smiled tilted her lips. "So, if you're Renard's closest confidant, does that make you my Queen?"

Nick frowned, his gaze shifting to Renard, whose eyes danced with mirth. "I think brother-in-arms will suffice."

"Very well, my Lord," she said, giggling. She turned and winked at Nick, who huffed, but the crinkle at the corners of his eyes told her that he was amused more than anything. It was probably something they got teased about on a regular basis, if her impression of Juliette was correct.

Sobering, she pursed her lips. There was one more question she had to ask; one more thing she had to know, but she wasn't sure if she should. Curiosity and a need to understand overrode her reticence.

"And the key?"

Nick looked to Renard, who inclined his head ever so slightly.

"All Seven of the Royal Houses want the key, but Sean's family, naturally, wants to get there first," Nick said quietly. "It's why we've been working so hard to keep them in the dark. I have it; my aunt gave it to me before she died."

"But, what does it do?" she asked.

"We don't know," Renard said. "Yet."

"Sean's family hasn't told him what it's for, just that they want him to retrieve it," Nick said. "Since I've only had the key for about six months, we haven't had much time to decipher it. And there's nothing in my Grimmoire about what it opens."

"But surely you must have some idea," she said, looking between the two men.

Renard took a deep breath. "There are rumors of a weapon so powerful that it can compel obedience from humans and wesen. I suspect the key will lead us to where it's hidden. If it's as powerful as the rumors say, no one group should have it. We must prevent that from happening."

"And the Lauffeur?" she asked. "Are you allied with them?"

"No," Renard said. "But we've helped them from time to time. The Lauffeur are too well known to the Verrat and the Seven Houses. If we were to formally get involved, our plans would likely be exposed. And, son of a House or not, I'd probably be killed. As would Nick and anyone else who'd helped me."

"So, killing Nick's aunt, getting Hank on your side, everything is part of your plan to convince your family and the Verrat that you're doing what they want," Adalind said. "Meanwhile, you and Nick are working to find whatever this key is for so you can keep it out of their hands. And you're hoping that, whatever it is that this key is for will help you end the war once and for all."

"That about sums it up," Nick said with a smile. The smile died away a moment later. "I'm sorry you were caught up in this, and that it cost you your wesen side."

Adalind shook her head. "I knew there would be a price if I failed. I only wish I could still serve my King as a human. It's all I've ever wanted to do."

"Then serve you shall," Renard said, surprising her. "Nick and I have set up a small law firm where we handle wesen affairs; it's hidden under layers of incorporation to hide our involvement. They could use a litigator such as yourself, if you're willing."

Her smile nearly stretched off her face. "Do you mean it?"

Renard smiled kindly. "Of course. You're a fine lawyer, and we would be glad to have you. The wesen can't always bring their disputes and problems to the human courts. It's important that they have people they can go to who understand. Most of the people who work there are wesen, but I think you'll fit in well."

"I'll call Frank in the morning," Nick said. He turned to Adalind. "Frank Rabe runs the firm for us. I think you'll like him."

Something settled in her chest at his words, as if the weight of the last few days had finally been released. She dropped her head to Nick's shoulder, more tears threatening. But these were tears of joy, not sorrow. Her King still needed her, still cared about her. It was more than she could have hoped for even a few hours ago. It might not be the same as it had been—trusted aide and confidant—but it was being useful. And right now, being useful was a blessing, something she never thought she'd feel until she'd lost her soul.

"You're tired," Renard said. "Why don't you get some rest. We'll discuss other ways you can help us when you're not so raw."

Her head popped up, surprise written all over her face. Nick chuckled.

"We didn't tell you all this only to keep you on the outside," he said, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. "Your knowledge of wesen politics will help a lot. And just because you're not a _hexenbiest_ anymore doesn't mean you don't still have something to offer. We'd be foolish not to take advantage."

"Thank you. It means a lot that you'd still trust me after everything."

Renard merely inclined his head, a royal gesture that she'd become so accustomed to over her time with him that it never seemed out of place. He reached out, taking the mug from her as she stood and stretched.

"I'll just show you where the guest room is," Nick said, rising as well.

"Oh, no, that's not necessary," she said, shaking her head. "I'll just go home. I don't want to be a bother."

"Adalind," Renard said, and the command in his voice compelled her to look at him. "You are not a bother. It's late and you're tired. Please allow us to take care of you tonight."

"Okay," she said, relenting. She really hadn't wanted to figure out how she was going to get home, and didn't really want to go back to an empty apartment anyway. 

"Good," Renard said, smiling gently. "We'll talk more tomorrow."

She barely kept herself from gaping at the fact that her King was planning to be there in the morning, just for her. Instead, she just nodded her agreement.

She turned to Nick. "You don't have to walk me upstairs. Just tell me where the guest room is and I'll find it."

"Right across from the bathroom," he said, smiling. "The sheets are fresh and I'll be just down the hall if you need anything."

"Thank you, Nick," she said honestly. "I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't brought me home.

"You're welcome, Adalind," he said. "Sleep well."

"Good night, Adalind," Renard said.

She smiled at him. "Good night, my Lord."

She headed up the stairs, pausing at the landing to glance back. They were sitting beside each other on the couch, and she could hear the murmur of quiet conversation. Smiling to herself, she continued up the stairs, finding the guest room easily. It was a simple room, with a double bed, night stand and dresser. The blankets looked warm and inviting, and she didn't even bother taking off the sweats, just crawled under the covers fully clothed and snuggled down under the blankets. With a flick of the switch on the bedside lamp, she plunged the room into darkness.

This was not at all how she'd expected this day to go. She'd gone from despair to joy in a matter of hours. Her head was still spinning from all that Nick and her King had told her. There was so much more going on than she'd ever been aware of. 

But perhaps the thing that had been most surprising had been finding out that her King was friends—as close as brothers could be without being related—with the Grimm. It seemed so out of character—he seemed so different than she'd come to expect—but then she supposed that the King and Captain were parts he was playing as part of their plan. Which left her wondering which man was the real Sean Renard: the one she'd known for the last few years or the one she'd met tonight.

Though, in reality it didn't really matter to her. She'd sworn loyalty to her King, no matter the cost, and she wasn't prepared to go back on that now that she knew the truth. The next months weren't going to be easy, but as she drifted off to sleep, she felt hope. And that was good enough for her.

~o~

When she'd emerged from the guest room the next morning, Adalind had found jeans and a t-shirt, along with a few other items in a basket in front of her door. It had made her smile to think that Nick was taking such good care of her, even though he didn't have to.

Even though she'd showered the night before, she'd taken another one. She'd found her clothes from the day before hanging in the bathroom, and her bag and belongings laid out in the tub to dry. She'd thought if she had any more tears left, she'd have cried at that point for the kindness the man kept showing her.

Showered and dressed, and finally feeling ready for the day, Adalind made her way downstairs. Sunlight was pouring into the house, and in the light of day she could see why Nick had chosen the place. It had a lot of character—moldings and wood trim and beautiful hardwood floors throughout—and was cozy and inviting. She'd bet that Juliette had a lot to do with that.

She stepped into the kitchen to find Nick sitting at the counter reading the paper, a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. He looked up when she stepped into the room, smiling at her as she stopped across the counter from him.

"Hey. Did you sleep well?"

"I did," she said, smiling. "Thank you."

Nick rolled his eyes, but stayed silent. She couldn't help it; she just couldn't stop saying thank you for everything he'd done.

"You hungry?" he asked. "I've got coffee, toast, yogurt if you're interested. Cereal, eggs. Whatever you'd like."

She smiled at him. "Coffee and toast will be fine. And maybe some yogurt."

"Coming right up," he said, shooting her a smile. 

He stepped over to the coffee maker and poured her a generous mug, setting it in front of her and nudging the milk and sugar her direction. While he pulled together the toast and yogurt, she fixed her coffee, watching him move about the space with ease. 

He just wasn't what she'd expected when she'd heard there was a Grimm in Portland. He was more a catch-and-release Grimm, and he was winning over the wesen with his compassion and sense of justice. She'd thought he was weak at first, but now she wasn't so sure. It wasn't weakness gaining him the loyalty of the wesen; it was respect. And she was surprised to find that she counted herself among those who'd come to respect the Grimm.

He set the food down in front of her, then sat down and picked up his own mug, sipping at his coffee as he watched her eat.

"So, whose clothes am I wearing?" she asked some minutes later, when the silence and his scrutiny had finally gotten to her.

"Juliette's cousin left some things here the last time she visited," he said. "They got caught out in the rain, ironically, on her last day here, and the clothes hadn't dried out by the time she was ready to leave. I figured she wouldn't mind if you borrowed them."

"Where is Juliette, anyway?" she asked. She glanced around, still expecting the woman herself to jump out of a cabinet and shoo her out of her house.

"She's at a seminar in Seattle." Nick finished off the last of his coffee. "You about done?"

Adalind scooped up the last of the yogurt, then set the cup and spoon down. "Yes. Thank you."

"Sean wasn't able to get away this morning. He had an early meeting that he couldn't miss," he said, pointedly ignoring her thanks. "So, it looks like I'll be driving you back to your place."

"Alright," she said. She'd bitten back the thank you at the last moment, finally accepting that he wanted to do these things for her.

The drive to her apartment was made mostly in silence. In a way that was a good thing. She wasn't sure what they had to talk about. She was conscious of the fact that she was responsible for at least some of the pain he'd gone through in the last year. And even though they'd brought her into their confidence, she still felt unsure of her place, given their history.

He pulled up in front of her building, cutting the engine and turning to her.

"I talked to Frank this morning," he said, smiling. "He's looking forward to meeting you. Just let me know when you're ready to start and I'll take you over there." He paused, flicking his gaze from her face to her building and back. "Sean told me your apartment was leased by your firm. Why don't you go ahead and pack your stuff. I need to take care of a few things, but I can be back in an hour or so to pick you up."

She gaped at him, unused to him—or anyone—showing her such kindness. "Why are you doing this?"

He sighed, leaning back against the seat. "There are casualties in every war. But, if we don't take responsibility for the people we hurt, we're no better than the Verrat or the Seven Houses."

She nodded. It was a valid point, and not something she'd ever had to worry about. She'd hurt a lot of people in her time, and she hadn't ever given it a second thought. Now that she was one of the walking wounded, she realized just how callous she'd been. It made what Nick and Renard were doing all the more noble, and suddenly she wanted to be worthy of that.

"I guess I've got some things to learn," she said quietly.

Nick smiled. "You'll get there." He reached out and squeezed her hand. "Give me a call if you need anything before I get back."

"Okay," she said. 

She opened the truck door and slid out, slamming it shut behind her. She patted her pockets, making sure she still had her cell phone and keys. Leaning against the truck, she poked her head through the open window.

"I know you're tired of hearing me say it, and I promise this is the last time," she said, smiling. "Thank you. For everything you've done and everything you're doing."

"You're welcome, Adalind," he said, smiling softly at her. "Now, get going. I'll be back later."

She waved at him, watching his truck disappear around the corner. Squaring her shoulders, she headed for her front door. She wasn't going to be sad to move out of the apartment, mostly because it hadn't ever really felt like home. But in a way, giving it up would give her a fresh start, something she knew she needed.

She'd been flying high, thinking she was untouchable, and now she'd fallen back to earth. She'd been fortunate that there'd been someone to catch her. And maybe she could do the same thing for someone else. It was the least she could do, for herself and for the man who'd rescued her.

~Finis


End file.
